


Enterprise - Prologue part 5

by thepunctuator001



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-06
Updated: 2021-03-06
Packaged: 2021-03-12 03:42:32
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 3,552
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29878569
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thepunctuator001/pseuds/thepunctuator001
Summary: Reports, exercise and the joys of tea and cookies
Comments: 1
Kudos: 6





	1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1 - Reports

One of T'Pol's duties as a representative for the Vulcan High Command was regular reports. It was not part of her StarFleet commission and so every evening after her shift she spent time in the mess hall composing her thoughts before retiring to her quarters for the necessary privacy to make an oral presentation to the ships computer. StarFleet had been informed, as had Captain Archer, that the Sub-Commander would require a private channel for coded reports to be transmitted to Vulcan. It had been part of the arrangement and a price paid to get access to the Vulcan star charts necessary for interstellar travel.

The Vulcan High Command expected daily briefings of everything T'Pol had observed, heard, done or investigated. In particular they had a specific interest in her interactions with Captain Archer. It was not only his command decisions which intrigued but his emotional state when he delivered them. There was a high degree of scepticism about Archer's abilities given his history of insubordination to StarFleet's command structure during the test phase of their first warp capable ships. He was deemed by Vulcan to be unsuited as Earth's representative of first contact to another species. Indeed his successes had alarmed Vulcan more than their expectations that he would fail. The irony of their disappointment had not been lost on T'Pol.

The Captain:  
Captain Jonathan Archer was not what she had expected. His command style was nothing like a Vulcan Captain. He guided rather than ordered his crew, listening to their advice, and at times acting like the chairman of a committee rather than it's leader. He wanted to connect with all his staff, organising a series of 'getting to know you' breakfasts and lunches, calling crew by their first names and encouraging them to express opinions. It was a strategy which had borne fruit where specialised knowledge was called for and the Enterprise crew knew that their opinions were valued. Captain Archer however was equally adept at taking sole command in an instant, those requests becoming orders and first names reduced to rank. He lacked consistency and added an element on uncertainty to each interaction she experienced.

T'Pol still struggled to understand why her own emotional outburst had been accepted quite so easily. In the absence of formal disciplining she had been forced to create her own self imposed restrictions to alleviate a sense of guilt. A fixed regimen of meditation and a diet of protein packs and water was a small price to pay. Archer's dismissal of the facts, his acceptance of her failure and his willingness to overlook his dislike of Vulcans, was perplexing. His thought processes for any given scenario were simply too difficult to predict. The Vulcan High Command however expected that sufficient psychoanalysis of his actions would reveal a pattern. She remained unconvinced.

T'Pol sipped her hot tea. It was an Earth drink made from Camellia Sinensis, of the family Theaceae, a plant native to Southern and Eastern Asia. The dried leaves were crushed and infused in boiling water releasing flavours which could be slightly bitter, sweet or nutty dependent on which region the plant had been cultivated. Humans added milk, sugar or other plants for extra flavour such as ginger or peppermint. To T'pol it was a taste of home, similar to Vulcan teas she enjoyed as a child, and currently her favourite indulgence from the ship's canteen. Abstinence had been a useful exercise.

It had been the communications officer who had introduced T'Pol to the ship's impressive range of teas. Hoshi had proved an acceptable companion over the last few weeks and their interactions provided a pleasant distraction from her work. That was not to suggest that she needed a companion… that would be un-Vulcan and unbecoming. It was this emotional reaction which had initially concerned T'Pol however she had found the ensign to be a discrete and intelligent conversationalist. She sometimes conversed with Hoshi in Vulcan should she wish for greater privacy or, and she would not admit this to anyone not even to herself, when she felt home-sick and disconnected from Vulcan. It was a curious relationship she mused, one she had not anticipated or sought out, but it felt somewhat natural.

The Armoury and Security Officer:  
Lieutenant Malcolm Reed was from a seafaring military family. His command style was 100% military and his staff all reflected this. If she entered a room where one of Lieutenant Reed's security team were present they would immediately snap to attention. There was some friction between the Lieutenant and the Captain because Reed felt the Captain to be too familiar with his subordinates. Their relationship was a product of conflicting military and non-military styles and neither would be totally satisfied with the other. Reed was a hard working and efficient officer, a perfectionist demanding the best from his staff, driving himself hard to present the best possible example. T'Pol could relate to this and she could sympathise with his troubles understanding the different priorities sometimes displayed by his fellow officers.

T'pol took another sip of tea pausing to enjoy the hot liquid and sweet taste. There were now a few more crew in the mess hall socialising with each other. Humans spent so much time together it seemed illogical that they should want to spend additional time with their crew mates.

Hoshi had appeared and as always several groups issued invitations for her to join them as she walked past. She was very popular amongst the crew and so it was a puzzle that occasionally she should wish to spend time with a Vulcan. T'Pol talked very little, indeed preferred to sit in a companionable silence, but that seemed acceptable to Hoshi. It must be tiresome, she reasoned, to be constantly bombarded by Enterprise's babble of noise. Their interactions must be a welcome relief and a distraction to her. Perhaps she might introduce Hoshi to Vulcan meditation. It seemed only fair as Hoshi was always trying to introduce T'Pol to new experiences. Recently it had been cookies, a hard flat flour based food which the chef prepared, but her attempts had not yet met with success.

T'Pol concentrated again.

The Chief Engineer:  
Commander Charles Tucker was a conundrum. He had a natural gift to understand mechanical devices, part mathematician, part scientist and part reckless tinker willing to push and prod at volatile substances just to see what would happen. His qualifications as an engineer were indisputable but he behaved like no Vulcan engineer she had ever encountered. Rather than the serious studious individual she had expected, he alternated from being highly emotional rebel, to being so laid back one might assume he had not a care in the world. His staff were very loyal to him and immensely proud of Commander Tucker's part in the success of Enterprise's warp five engine.

Hoshi drew up alongside T'Pol's table carrying a mug of hot tea and a plate of cookies. "Good evening Sub-Commander", she smiled, "would you mind some company?"

T'Pol looked up, an errant eyebrow refusing to behave itself. "Ensign" she replied. Perhaps she might let herself be persuaded to taste a cookie tonight. After all it would be rude to dismiss Hoshi's kindly meant offer on too many occasions.


	2. More reports

While T'Pol had to write reports on the crew it fell to Captain Archer to reciprocate. Although Starfleet believed themselves totally self sufficient in all areas of ship's business they were not blind to the potential learning opportunities available from the most intelligent person on board Enterprise. When Jon saw her résumé his jaw dropped, granted the long Vulcan lifespan provided opportunities which could not be available to a Human, but to say it was impressive did not really do justice to her accomplishments.

T'Pol's ideas on the sensor array, which were now live without the need for Jupiter Station testing, had been creative, brilliant even. Both Commander Tucker and Lieutenant Reed had said as much. Malcolm commenting that they should utilise the Sub-Commander more to make the best of her short stay on Enterprise. Trip issuing an invitation for T'Pol to work in engineering which, given how possessive he was of his territory, was nothing short of a miracle.

From day one there had been friction between T'Pol and the Enterprise crew. Her critical comments, her blunt diagnosis of what she believed to be a flaw or an error, and her continuous use of the word 'explain' had created not a small number of complaints and disciplinary meetings. T'Pol had been a walking, talking, disaster zone for Human-Vulcan relations but then overnight it had all changed. Most interactions with the crew had her repeating at least once 'I do not understand' and strangely enough that change had worked. Pride could be viewed as a Human flaw but her crew mates had been flattered by her perceived interest in their jobs and wish to learn from them. It had quite simply worked wonders.

Complaints were down and she was beginning to fit in. Yes there were still small misunderstandings but her solution, or perhaps the fact that she had noticed and felt it necessary to minimise that daily friction, had taken him quite by surprise. A lone Vulcan surviving on a ship full of Humans was no small feat and Jon was beginning to understand what it took to interact all day in an alien language with an emotional and illogical species.

This conclusion had not been his first opinion of their resident Vulcan but it had been triggered by a conversation he had had with Doctor Phlox. It had started as a routine discussion on medical matters and the health of the crew.

"You will be pleased to know that you're in fine physical health Captain", the edges of Doctor Phlox's mouth turned upwards as the Denobulan made an attempt at a Human smile, "I would still like to take scans of your brain synapses in action but this can be performed at another date."

Jon repressed a shudder as the Doctor's alien facial flexibility sent the corners of his mouth reaching towards his earlobes. He appreciated that Phlox was only trying to be friendly but it did give him a slightly sinister look. A shocked or threatened Denobulan was able to puff up their face to appear more intimidating, an illusion similar to that used by Earth's puffer fish, and the Doctor was using this same flexibility in an attempt to fit in. It was to be applauded however sometimes Phlox missed the right context for a smile which could be embarrassing.

"Have you had a chance to see all the command staff yet Doctor? Anything I should know?" Jon raised the question lightly but he knew that Trip was unlikely to have been to see the Doctor despite his encouragement and then order for him to do so. 'I've no time for that Cap'n, you know how much work I have to do on the antimatter injectors' he had muttered.

"Well Captain, I have not seen Commander Tucker yet," bingo - Jon suppressed a smile, "but all other command staff have attended their physical. Sub-Commander T'Pol has been to see me numerous times".

Now that was unexpected. A Vulcan visiting the doctor. He would have expected her to give him some 'Vulcan's do not need to visit a doctor' crap. "Is it anything serious?"

"No Captain, the Sub-Commander has been visiting regularly to receive treatment for headaches and stomach nausea," Phlox smiled, the corners of his mouth reaching again towards the ceiling, "but is nothing unusual. I had expected to see the Sub-Commander more frequently."

Jon ignored the smile and asked again, "Is it anything I should be concerned about? This doesn't sound normal for a Vulcan."

"Consider your own experiences with Vulcans, Captain." He smiled encouragingly. "Have you ever known of a Vulcan to stay on board a Human vessel for more than a day or two? Or perhaps a Vulcan who has spent more than a few hours in a room crowded with Humans, a conference for example, without leaving as soon as there was an intermission?"

Jon considered this. Certainly there had been a few Vulcan advisers added to the crew of Earth's first warp capable ships in the early days. Mainly navigators or engineers but none had lasted more than a day or two before a Vulcan ship had magically appeared and their replacement took over. It was so difficult to get any continuity with the Vulcans because they treated the Earth ships like they had a revolving door. It was a similar pattern whenever the Vulcans were invited to StarFleet conferences. You would get to the first break when drinks would be served and the Vulcan's just got up and left. His brow furrowed at the memory. Damned Vulcans didn't want to be contaminated by mixing with their Human hosts, probably the smell, and yet they all came back reeking of smoke.

"You're right. I don't know what kind of experience Denobulans have had with Vulcans but they just don't like Humans. They don't want to be touched, don't like our food and then they have the nerve to complain about our smell when they're all walking chimneys. It's like they all go out for a Vulcan only smoking break!" He paused. Yes it touched a nerve. "Sorry Doc," he smiled, "they wind me up that's all. So damned superior."

"I understand Captain. It is very difficult to understand Vulcans when you have so little experience of their history and culture. Vulcans are a telepathic race and can be affected by your emotions which can amplify their own. Normally their telepathy is through touch but large gatherings can create an atmosphere where their heightened sensitivity is affected. Their culture insists that a Vulcan's emotions must be hidden within regardless of their struggle to do so. They meditate regularly to control those emotions and the smoke you smelled was probably from their meditation candles." The Doctor's face split into a toothy grin as his smile wrapped itself into a big semi-circle. "It is actually quite flattering that Vulcans continue to help Earth when it unsettles them quite so much to do so."

Jon was taken aback. He'd never thought of that before and why would the Doctor lie. "But T'Pol has been with us for weeks now and she.." He stopped. So the headaches were caused by her being on Enterprise and the nausea must be related to her struggles with our food. He sighed. She wouldn't shake hands, didn't want to socialise with the crew, although he had seen her with Hoshi on occasion. She didn't complain about the Human smell other than to take a small sniff every once in a while and wrinkle her nose. Clearly she was making an effort where her male compatriots would have returned to the nearest available Vulcan ship. He had underestimated the Sub-Commander.

"Why doesn't T'Pol smell of smoke?"

"Regulations Captain. I understand that she was not permitted a naked flame on board so meditation candles cannot be lit."

"Of course." But Vulcans just don't like us… or do they? Food for thought...


	3. The spiritual pursuit of the lone runner

T'Pol had taken to using Enterprise's small gym after she had sent her reports to Vulcan. It was becoming part of her routine providing stability to her day and assisting her meditation and sleep patterns. Enterprise had a constant mechanical hum which assaulted her ears to a greater or lesser degree throughout the day and a workout on the running machines provided an opportunity to relieve the body of excess energy.

Some Human religious communities believed that jogging was a way to get closer to God. The Rev. Roger D. Joslin, an Episcopal minister from Bentonville, Arkansas, and author of 'Running the Spiritual Path', had suggested you must concentrate on your breathing. 'Listen to the sound of your feet, feel the shift of the wind, but more than anything listen to your breath'. 

T'Pol was a natural athlete. Her running gait was effortless, seemingly floating over the treadmill, as the kilometres ticked off one after the other with metronomic consistency. To her right were two of Lieutenant Reed's security team gamely plugging away, trying to match her tempo, and bathed in sweat. Vulcans do not sweat. Their physiology is designed for high temperatures and a lack of available water on a desert planet. Sweat glands would have been an illogical biological design - quite literally an evolutionary dead end.

It was not that Reed's team were out of shape, far from it, but Modern Man is an unfit and flabby couch potato in comparison to it's Prehistoric ancestor. A study by leading anthropologists had demonstrated that Ancient man could run faster that the fastest modern Olympians. An analysis of 20,000 year old footprints preserved in a fossilised clay-pan lake bed in Australia showed six men running down their prey over muddy ground at what they calculated to be 37 kph. What those hunters might be capable of wearing spiked running shoes in a sporting arena was only to be guessed at. Neanderthal woman would have beaten Arnold Schwarzenegger at his peak in an arm wrestling contest so it was not an exaggeration to say that Homo Sapiens were the geeks of the Hominidae family.

T'Pol's peripheral vision noted their red faced attempts to keep pace. It was an illogical competition so she clicked her machine's setting higher feeling a pleasing release of endorphins as the exercise stretched her muscles further. That did the trick, blowing and wheezing her shadows slowed to a halt, hands on their knees gasping for breath and laughing. Then they surprised her, rather than resenting her superior ability, they complimenting her. T'Pol glanced over, nodded, and concentrated again on her breathing, the balls of her feet barely touching the treadmill as it motored along silently beneath her.

T'Pol was wearing a pair of Hoshi's exercise shorts & top. It had not occurred to her that she would require different clothing since her bodysuit was sufficiently flexible but Hoshi had suggested the loan due to their similar petite body size. It was another element of their relationship which T'Pol had not experienced before. For so long she had been a unit of one but since joining Enterprise her unit had expanded and now she had a small but increasing group of Humans and one non-Human with whom she felt comfortable. A Vulcan feeling comfortable amongst Humans was strange and yet there it was… Enterprise had welcomed her into their world in a manner to which she was unaccustomed.

What was it that Lieutenant Reed had said? 'Enterprise takes care of it's own'. T'Pol slowed down the running machine and stepped off. "Ensigns", she caught their attention, "I wish to try the weights. Is there a protocol that I must follow?" She put names to their faces, Davis and Martinez, normally stationed in the armoury. She suppressed the urge to wrinkle her nose at the Human odour. Sweating was a natural by-product of exercise for Humans she told herself. Drawing attention to this would be impolite.

"Not really Ma'am," said Davis the taller of the two stretching his arms over his head and revealing further damp patches. He looked quizzically at her slim arms, "I suggest you start slowly and build up to what you feel comfortable lifting."

Martinez was a bit more forthcoming. He gestured to the fixed equipment. "Do you want me to give you a demonstration, Ma'am?"

T'Pol nodded and watched with interest while the Human worked his way though a series of exercises. The weights he added looked to be heavier than what he might have chosen had an audience not been watching. She could see the increased blood flow into his face, veins standing out with the effort Martinez was exerting. It was illogical that he should try to impress a Vulcan and inevitably as he attempted to put the bar back into its holding bracket his strength gave out. Supported by trembling arms it bounced against the metal lip and dropped downwards as Davis lunged forwards. T'Pol was the closest and stepped in, easily catching the weight in her small hands, and together they levered the bar back into position.

Martinez was embarrassed and apologetic. It wasn't helped by the laughter of his companion. "Sub-Commander, you're a life-saver! I don't know what happened." he repeated. "The Lieutenant is going to have my guts for garters if he finds out." A curious phrase she thought and most likely to have come from the Lieutenant. She should investigate the Earth database again in her never ending quest for clarity.

There seemed to be an odd silence from the pair. Perhaps she had missed something. T'Pol looked at Martinez who seemed to be requiring some sort of response. She glanced at the grinning Davis and a little tickle of humour announced itself in the back of her mind. "You can be assured of my discretion in this matter Ensign however you may wish to encourage your friend's silence. May I recommend the Chef's chocolate chip cookies." Their jaws dropped. "Thank you for your assistance. I shall experiment with the weights another night." T'Pol nodded pleasantly and strolled out of the room leaving two very bemused security officers in her wake.


End file.
